


Blind Faith

by cerealbaths (timelordangel)



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: College, Drunk Sex, First Time, Infidelity, M/M, No actual nudity, Religious Guilt, Underage Drinking, everyone is over 18, the real story of the first time Rhett drank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordangel/pseuds/cerealbaths
Summary: Beer on his 21st is a good first drink story, but that's all it is- a story.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 21
Kudos: 74





	Blind Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @fanbabble for all of the help.

Rhett’s a liar. 

Or he told a lie, anyway. He  _ tells _ one specific lie. It’s one of those lies he’s just about convinced himself is true, one of those kind of hazy in the hippocampus, mighta-happened-mighta-not kinda lies. One of those lies that even Jessie doesn’t know is a lie, and she knows everything that Rhett’s ever done, felt, or dreamt. 

But he’s a liar, because he didn’t wait until he was freshly 21 to take a sip of alcohol. Beer, sure. ‘Cept that time daddy let him take a swig at 10 years old and he’d harshly gagged, his sweet-tuned tongue unaccustomed and unprepared for the astringency of hops. But the real first drink he ever had was at nineteen, in the summer of 1997. 

The first time Link got drunk he was drinking to get drunk. That story we know, and that story is true. He might have never admitted to Rhett every dirty little detail; he might have never quite said his intentions that night. He wasn’t going to say anything at all, but he’s Link, and guilt manifested like flowers growing in the dirt packed in his lungs. He ached that day he confessed to Rhett in his car, before he was abandoned on the road.

Not really abandoned. But it sure had felt like it. 

So, a few years after that they’ve got their ramshackle apartment and school is going well. Link’s dating his new girlfriend Christy, but borderline avoids her to avoid whatever temptation and guilt comes with her, having written off even a simple kiss at this point. Rhett teases him relentlessly for being an anxious ball of flesh and bone, barely a man without his neuroticities to ground him back to this Earth. But Link is okay. 

And Rhett’s  _ wild _ . Wild wild wild. He invites random girls over for Planet of the Apes parties that consist of Planet of the Apes and absolutely nothing else. He tries to get other people to high five him in the quad to create the longest chain of high-fives NC State has ever seen. Link shudders at the thought of all the germs being transferred around. 

One thing leads to another and one night they’re headed back from the dining hall alone when Rhett makes a detour to a small sitting area. It’s dusk, and early summer, so classes will be over before they know it. Link follows him and sits on the black metal bench and waits, just like they used to do on the talking rocks.

“We’re talking at the service on Sunday, ya know,” Rhett starts with a fact. Something easy for Link to agree to. “And then we’re done until Fall. I was thinking Sunday night you n’ me could just hang. Just us.”

Link shrugs, eyes focused beyond him on the fireflies of early June. “Sure. Christy’s got finals next week so she won’t want to hang out on Sunday night.”  _ Jesus. Why does he sound so relieved? _

“And-”

A penetrating silence draws Link’s attention. Rhett finally sits down beside him. 

“What was it like? When you got drunk?” Rhett’s question comes out of nowhere, but Link traces the lines and connects the dots quickly.

“Man, I am not letting you do that,” Link snaps.

“You know everyone else on this campus is doin’ it!” Rhett hisses, fists clenching. 

“Yeah, you jumpin’ off that bridge too, brother? I don’t want to hear it,” Link’s got enough guilt. He’ll pass, thank you very much.

“Okay, okay,” Rhett steadies himself. “Not get drunk. Just try alcohol. When else will I be able to try it after 21 without it being weird as hell? I’d rather try it with you, at eight pm, just to say I did it.”

Now Link’s considering. He had tried it- didn’t mean he wanted to again, but he wanted Rhett to have the same experiences as him at the end of it all. It’s not like he could stop Rhett anyway, he’d just go do it somewhere like a - like a frat house. Or with a girl, and go too far and- well, Link thinks that supervising this might be the best option of all. 

“I’m not gonna do it, but if I can’t stop you, I’ll be there,” Link says finally. 

Rhett places his hand over Link’s fist and squeezes, a thank you. Link thinks of all the people Rhett touched during the high-five chain.

They’re silent for a long time.

-

The Sunday service goes alright. The of-age undergrads make the biggest racket, and Rhett only hypes them up. They’d been asked to speak to those about to graduate. Link’s thinking about how his own graduation is years away, and it feels silly to be emitting fake excitement for these people older than himself. 

“Get out of your head, man,” Rhett commands, tapping Link firmly on his back.

It’s hard to disobey, but Link manages.

Link hopes by nightfall Rhett’s forgotten. He’s still out, presumably Sunday dinner with Jim and Diane took longer than expected. He doesn’t mind, but the house is quiet. Greg dipped to start his summer internship at the news station early, so he is out of the apartment until July. 

He’s startled when the door opens behind him. 

“Heya, Link,” Rhett’s voice is soft. 

Link can’t help but smile. He grins at his best friend, always glad to know he’s gotten home safely, in one piece, whole. His smile drops when he sees what’s in his hand.

“It’s rum,” Rhett says, embarrassed. 

“Rum?”

“Goslings,” Rhett says, as if that means anything to either of them. “I got it the other day, from Nick.”

“Okay. S’alot, is all,” Link looks at the fifth and anxiety trickles in. “You sure about this, Rhett?”

Rhett shrugs and says, “I want to do it. It’s not like sex, or whatever. It’s just a drink. Not some f-you to God, just wanting to live a little while I’m young.”

Link laughs a little. “Okay. You’ve eaten?”

“Yeah, momma's chicken and dumplings.”

“Anything to mix with the rum?”

“No, jus’ neat.” 

It’s ridiculous how nervous they are, when the two of them have walked every step of this life together. They sit close on the worn sofa with a deck of cards between them on the coffee table.

“Well, guess you should get it over with. It’s gross, fair warning,” Link says.

So, Rhett takes the first sip. His reaction is hilarious, but it would be funnier if they weren’t committing a sin. On the Lord’s day, too. Rhett’s eyes bug out and he rips the bottle from his mouth, sputtering and wincing hard with drips of rum running down his chin.

“Nasty,” Link chuckles, starting to shuffle the deck of cards.

“Ah, yuck,” Rhett laughs, scrubbing at his mouth before he takes a long drag of water.

“Well, that’s that, then,” Link says.

“I think that was hardly a try,” Rhett says.

Link’s mildly surprised when his anxiety doesn’t worsen the more sips Rhett takes. If anything, he feels better seeing Rhett celebrate when he takes a long pull without a single flinch. He’s a quarter through the bottle when Link sticks out a shaky hand. 

Rhett pauses. He’s tipsy for the first time in his entire life with his best friend less than a foot away. He knows to pause, but Link reckons he doesn’t want to, and Link doesn’t want him to. So Link puts his hand on the bottle and says,

“If you go down, then we go down together.”

It tastes like medicine and smells like rubbing alcohol, but good gosh it makes the chatter in his head quiet down and that alone elicits a long enough drag that his nose burns just from the vapor when he’s done.

“Easy boy,” Rhett drawls, and it makes Link’s head spin.

-

They finish it, or mostly finish it, save for that which has spilt. Slowly, over the course of two hours, they forget the cards and indulge in their private aberration. Rhett gets drunk first and is giddy with it, throwing his head back like a kid and flailing his too-long arms. 

Link’s drunk when Rhett’s hand lands on his shoulder. He goes from faded and warm to buzzed all over, the electricity from the touch trailing down his arm until he’s sure he can feel it past his t-shirt. Rhett doesn’t let go. His large hand spreads out and he digs the pads of his fingers into the soft skin of Link’s shoulder.

“Heyy brother,” Link murmurs, at this point six or seven shots deep and he’s not sober enough to refuse touch. They’re not supposed to be affectionate like this, the pastor said men touchin’ men ain’t it. 

“Hey,” Rhett says.

Link leans into the touch and his eyes flutter shut with how decadent it is. Rhett must be feeling it too, because he grips hard enough to tug Link toward him. Link crawls onto the sofa and wraps his arms tightly around Rhett's torso, still carefully on his knees.

“They weren’t kidding when they said this stuff makes ya’ wanna’ do bad things,” Rhett slurs, his arms around Link as he flattens his big hands across the small of his back.

Link can’t think too much about what that means. Link straddles Rhett’s lap to get closer, hesitantly sitting half on him and fitting his face into the crook of Rhett’s neck. It feels fake. Like a dream, or a skit, or a joke. But here they are, the blood roaring in his ears loud enough to drown out the tick tick tick of the clock on the wall. Half past ten.

“I didn’t mean t’ make ya do this,” Rhett says into his ear. Whatever this is, Link thinks.

Link feels the sound of Rhett's voice crawl down his back and his lips fall open against Rhett’s neck. “ ‘s fine, Rhett. Havin’ fun.”

Fun is an understatement. Rhett’s hands wander. They go under Link’s shirt and slide across his firm back muscles, then they find his hips and trail them to the waistband of his jeans. Link grips onto Rhett’s arms when Rhett slides a hand under the waistband and grabs at his buttcheeks. 

“You’re just like a girl, bo,” Rhett nearly growls, squeezing too hard. “All fleshed out, anyway,”

Link pulls back to look Rhett in the eyes. His eyes are alive with something Link has never been privy to. Rhett stares right back at Link and drags him a little closer by the ass.

“You’re a horny bastard,” Link goes for levity and falls flat. 

“I’m drunk,” Rhett barks playfully, a faint bit of spittle finding its way to Link’s cheek. He lets go of Rhett’s arm to wipe it off. “Go down together, Neal, remember?”

“Okay,” Link says, helplessly, “Okay.”

It’s Rhett who ruts up first. Link is scared, because his body wants it so fiercely that he hides his expression in Rhett’s neck. He’s dampened the collar there, it’s pulled taught where his hands are gripped into the fabric at the bottom. 

This is so new. It’s so new and they’re drunk for the first and second time ever. Link’s cock gets the memo that it’s allowed to be a part of this after he feels the solid mass of what Rhett’s packing press against him. It doesn’t get a lot of action, under all that guilt; it’s quick to be hard and aching.

“We’re gonna regret this,” Link whines because he can’t stop the thoughts from tumbling out.

“I’ll stop,” Rhett huffs, Instant-Solution McLaughlin. He’s so big. He’s got Links’s hips so hard it hurts.

“Don’t,” Link says.

They won’t kiss. The living room is silent, save for stifled moans. The carpet is damp from rum like the fronts of their boxer briefs are with precum and the whole damn room smells like sweaty boys and rubbing alcohol. 

If Campus Crusade could see them now, they’d be cut from the whole thing. Obviously. Link lets out a little needy sob and grinds harder against Rhett’s bulge, wondering faintly in the back of his mind how something that feels so good can be so wrong. 

They could pray together after this. 

Rhett’s probably close now, and Link imagines the way his cock must be throbbing in those jeans, pressed tight against the fabric and yearning to be out and up inside of someone, somewhere warm to release. Pink and dripping, more and more with every upward thrust. Link stays down and lets Rhett grind against his taint, his eyes clamped shut as he feels his own cock begging to come.

“Link, Link, fuck,” Rhett pants, starting to come in his jeans and rutting up hard against his best friend to ride it out. 

Link looks down from where he’s holding himself up on Rhett’s shoulders and imagines Rhett holding him down for real, fucking up into him for real, and messes his own jeans, jeans that are only still on by some miracle. 

When they’ve cooled down into an uneasy and breathy silence, Link’s still drunk, and now wet and exhausted. He imagines Rhett is much the same.

“Gonna,” Rhett tosses Link off of him, darting toward the bathroom before kneeling and- well, you get it.

Link stays on the sofa where Rhett left him and listens to the unpleasant sound of retching. He closes his eyes and looks up at the ceiling and says a silent request for this to have been a dream, so the guilt would be his, and his alone.

-

“Romans 3:3,” Link says to nobody in particular, “What if some were unfaithful? Does their faithlessness nullify the faithfulness of God?” 

“Yes,” Christy laughs, looking up from her book. “What kind of question is that?”

“Alas,” Rhett says from the other side of the sofa, “His grace is sufficient for you, for His power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will gladly boast my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” 

Christy hums. “Right. Corinthians...”

“12:9,” Link says too quickly. He locks eyes with Rhett, an apology for a misdeed that would never come to the surface. They’d clearly both been doing their research on exactly what could be forgiven now, drenched in whatever shame and sorrow the alcohol had cut through that night.

“I’m hungry,” Christy shuts her bible and stretches out her limbs, eyes glancing at the petite gold watch on her wrist.

“Me too,” Link says, eyes dark and locked on Rhett.

-

Link will propose soon, and marry soon, and be with Christy for the rest of his life. He will get a bottle of Gosling Rum for his wedding and when he tastes it after his honeymoon it will only taste of Rhett. He’ll get so drunk he will end up sobbing in the bathtub, and when Christy finds him he won’t be able to tell her the truth.

It will make him cry more. 

But he won’t know then that he will also be with Rhett for the rest of his life, and as the years pass the shame will dissolve, and the hurt will double, but then dissipate. He won’t know as he cries in his wife’s arms that he can have them both forever, without fear or doubt.

Maybe Rhett’s a liar.

But Link will always know better.


End file.
